Forgiving and Moving Forward
by Marion the Geek
Summary: Comics Canon through issue 11. Buffy's 24th birthday is made more interesting by the appearance of her father and her Watcher. Many secrets come to light. Can Hank cope with the knowledge that Buffy is a Slayer? What new revelations will Giles bring?


Author's Note: This fic was written for the allthejellies live-journal community's "Every Slayer needs her Watcher" fic-a-thon. The pairing is Buffy/Giles. It is a romance, though it may not, at first, seem so. Special Thanks to Amanda, my Buffy Beta reader.

Prompt: I wrote for Sniggs:

The request: Hank decides to visit his little girls. When or where is up to you.

Unwanted: Poetry or song quotes.

Highest rating preferred: Any

Disclaimer: This story is in no way intended as copyright infringement. BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Dark Horse Comics, et. al. I am making no profit from this work.

Rating: FRT

Feedback: Means the world to me.

Archives: My permission is freely given, just send me a note.

Spoilers: Through issue #11 of the Season 8 comics.

What you need to know to appreciate the story if you haven't read the comics:

SPOILER WARNING

Dawn is currently a giant, thanks to a spell. Giles has been working with Faith, which he and Buffy had a falling out over in issue 9. Issue 11 brought up Buffy feeling she is a dangerous person to love. That's the nutshell version. I encourage you to read the comics. They're fun.

Title: Forgiving and Moving Forward

Author: Marion the Geek

The morning of Buffy's twenty-fourth birthday dawned just like any other. The rain clouds that had been drenching the moors for the past three days parted and the morning sun burned through the predawn fog to shine gloriously despite the January chill.

"Well, it looks like today's disaster won't be the weather," Buffy muttered, sipping a strong cup of coffee on the balcony of the Scottish castle that she and Xander and fifty odd Slayers called home. Not the weather. The options only got worse from there.

Casting a last glance at the barn where her ninety foot little sister was sleeping; she headed down to the lawn to begin her morning calisthenics. As she began to warm up her muscles, honed from years slaying and also sore from the previous day's training mission, she wondered what the day would bring.

"Good morning, ma'am," said Satsu, coming to stand parallel with Buffy and beginning her own warm up.

"Satsu, I've told you like a million times… it's just Buffy." Satsu smiled and launched into jumping jacks without responding.

Satsu's greeting was repeated multiple times as other young Slayers came out of the castle to join them. 'Ma'am," Buffy muttered under her breath. "You girls are trying to make me feel old."

After her exercises, Buffy went upstairs to take a shower. She was still busy worrying about what kind of disaster her birthday would bring and nearly toppled Andrew when she ran into him in the hall. "Hey, Buffy," he said. "You all right?"

"Five by… well, four, anyway," she said. "I didn't realize you were going to be here today. Is everything okay in Verona?"

"More fun than a Young Indiana Jones marathon," he said. "I just stopped in to compare notes with Xander on a couple demons we encountered that were… icky to say the least. Speaking of which, have you seen him? He wasn't in his room."

"I haven't this morning," said Buffy. "He's usually in the ops center by now, though. Try there."

"Roger that," said Andrew. "I'll just go check out what new toys you guys have installed in my absence."

"Have fun," said Buffy. "Tell Sergeant Fury I said 'good morning.'"

"With pleasure, my lady," he said, giving her a little bow and a grin and making his exit.

"My lady?" Buffy mused. "I suppose it's better than ma'am, anyway."

After a hot shower, remarkably not cut short by the castle's limited hot water resources and the strain put on them by the large female contingent living under it's roof, Buffy went down to the mess hall for some breakfast. The morning rush was over and there were only two other Slayers eating quietly. She selected a blueberry scone and a piece of sausage and took her breakfast over to a corner table where she could sit by herself.

She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease her mounting tension. She wished the requisite birthday disaster would hurry up and arrive. The wait was torture. Lost in thought, she didn't hear anyone approach. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a large hand landed gently on her shoulder.

"Good morning, Buffy," said a voice she had definitely not expected to hear. She whirled to face her visitor. Giles stood there smiling uncertainly. He was dressed in rough trousers and a rumpled pull-over sweater, looking every bit her stalwart Watcher. In his hand was a bouquet of fresh white daisies. He held the flowers out to her. "Happy birthday."

Her first impulse was to throw herself into his arms. It had been almost a year since they'd seen each other face to face. She knew if she did he would hold her tight and it would be warm and safe and comforting, if only for a moment. Her second impulse was to yank the flowers out of his hand and hit him with them. Repeatedly.

She split the difference. "You have some nerve showing up here unannounced," she said blandly, crossing her arms and ignoring the proffered daisies.

The corners of his mouth twitched downward just slightly and the warmth in his eyes cooled, almost imperceptibly. "Yes, well, I didn't mean to startle you," he said.

"You didn't," she lied.

"I hoped to surprise you for your birthday," he said.

"Well, I'm surprised, so congratulations on that one," she said. She stood and carried her half-eaten breakfast toward the trashcan. He followed, leaving the daisies abandoned on the table. She did her best to pretend that he wasn't there.

When she made it to the corridor he quickened his pace, stepping ahead of her and planting a hand on the wall to block her progress. She sighed in exasperation. "What do you want, Giles?"

"To talk to you," he said.

She didn't meet his eyes. "What is it this time?"

He blinked. "How do you mean?"

"What do you want me to fight?" Her eyes flashed angrily up at him. "What demon holds the world in peril? What unspeakable evil do I have to face this time? Or are you here to tell me I have to send other girls off to die?"

"There's no demon," he said, his face suddenly stricken.

"Well, if it's the Master again, you can tell him twice was enough and no thank you," she said. "It isn't, is it?" she added as an afterthought. "Because I ground his bones and I thought we were done."

"No, the Master hasn't risen," he said.

"Then what? It's my birthday. Something bad _has_ to happen," she said. "And here you are; the harbinger of the apocalypses… apocalypsi… whatever. So what is it? You only show up when the world is ending."

He dropped his hand from the wall. "I came because I miss you," he said softly. "I'm here to… to mend fences, so to speak."

"Oh," she said. She scrutinized his face a moment, trying to judge his sincerity. "Okay, then. So nice to see you. Be sure and say hi to Dawn before you leave or she'll be pissed. And you are an Englishman after all. I guarantee she can sniff out your blood." She turned and started to walk away.

"Buffy, wait," he called after her. "Please… can't we talk a moment?"

"Giles, no offense, but I don't have anything to say right now that you are going to want to hear."

"I think we need to talk," he tried again patiently. "I know you're angry with me, but to be frankly honest, I don't know why."

"Your girl, Faith, tried to kill me and you don't know why I'm angry?" she snapped, turning to face him.

"She wasn't trying to kill you," he said wearily.

"She held my head under water after tackling me out of a second story window," she said. "You're right. I don't know how I could have misinterpreted that display of her obvious affection."

"She was merely trying to prevent you from killing Lady Genevieve," he protested.

"And speaking of people who tried to kill me," said Buffy. "Is she working with you, too?"

"She's dead, Buffy," he said. "Faith killed her. She had hoped to reform the girl. When it became clear she was beyond all hope of…"

"Ah, yes, your secret mission for your new favorite Slayer," she said. "The one you didn't want me anywhere near." Her expression was dark and closed. "What are you doing here, Giles? You only come to me when you have to. You call Willow just to chat. And Faith… she's living in your flat. But not me. Never me. You walked out of my life when I needed you most. You left me four years ago, and I can't, for the life of me, understand what you're doing here now."

"Buffy, I know things haven't been right between us for some time now," he said.

"No, they haven't," she said. "And you showing up with an armload of daisies isn't likely to improve things, no matter what you may have thought."

"They were merely a peace offering," he said with a shrug. "I recalled that you liked daisies."

"They don't make up for the things you've done," she said.

"At least I'm making an effort, damn it," he said. "You could, too."

"Give me one good reason."

She almost wished she could take it back at the look of pain that crossed his face. He looked defeated. "No," he murmured. "I should have known better than to come here. It was foolish of me to think we might talk things through as adults."

He had just started to walk away from her when yelling erupted down the hall near the front door. "Where are my daughters?" shouted a distinctly male voice.

"Please, calm down sir," said Renée. "If you tell me their names, I'm sure I can help you."

"Who's in charge of this place?" the man growled.

Buffy hurried toward the commotion, Giles close on her heels. She rounded a bend in the corridor and jerked to a halt. "Dad?" Giles, a few paces behind, stopped in his tracks.

"Buffy," Hank Summers gasped.

Buffy and her father stared at each other for a moment. He took a step toward her, reaching out tentatively. She flung herself into his arms and he swept her up in a fierce hug.

He held her at arm's length after a moment, a look of panic on his features. "Buffy, sweetheart, do you know where your sister is? I just came from Berkley. I wanted to see if she wanted to come here for a visit… surprise you for your birthday. She's not there. No one could tell me anything except that she left in a hurry."

"She's all right, Daddy," said Buffy. "She's here." She thought better of her father seeing her gargantuan little sister. "Er… not here, exactly. But she's safe."

"Where is she?" he asked, anger bleeding through his concerned tone.

Buffy bit her lip as she worked out a plausible tale. Always best to begin with a little truth. "There was this boy…"

If she'd been anyone but a Slayer his grip on her upper arms would have bruised. "If the next words out of your mouth are that my baby is pregnant…"

"God, no!" exclaimed Buffy. "She's… just… she's on sabbatical. Awful break-up."

"You let her drop out of college over a boy?" Hank accused. "The college I'm paying for?"

"She's not a dropout. She's going back. She just needed some time."

Hank gave his eldest a little shake. Giles took a dangerous step toward him, but he ignored the Watcher. "Dawn has a bright future ahead of her. I'm not going to let her drop out of school and throw her life away."

Buffy detached herself from his grip. "Like me?" she asked, anger bubbling up.

"I didn't say that," said Hank.

"You didn't have to."

"Excuse me," he said. "But I want something better for Dawn than the path you chose. You dropped out of college and moved to England with your high school librarian, for god's sake." He cast a meaningful look at Giles. "I don't want to see Dawn repeat your mistakes."

"Now, see here," said Giles, stepping in between Buffy and her father.

"You don't get to speak to me," said Hank, pointing an accusing finger at Giles' chest. "The pervert who has been shtupping my little girl since she was sixteen does not get to talk to me."

Giles saw red, not so much for his own honor as Buffy's. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. As it became readily apparent that her Watcher wanted nothing so much as to hit her father, Buffy gripped Giles' arm with both hands, tugging hard to put some space between the two men.

She stepped in front of her father. "One, this is Scotland. Two, Giles doesn't live here. Three, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You honestly expect me to believe there is nothing going on between the two of you?" Hank asked.

Buffy looked at Giles, blushing furiously, and then back at her father. "Certainly not what you think," she said. "He's a friend and a mentor. There has been no shtupping. And may I say… eeew."

"Then what is it?"

"You wouldn't understand," said Buffy.

"Where is Dawn?"

"I'll have her call you," she snapped.

"Just because you screwed up your life doesn't mean you can drag your sister down with you," said Hank.

That one hit the mark. Buffy blinked. She sniffed and her lip quavered a little, but she did not cry.

"You have no right to speak to her that way," said Giles. "Joyce died and Buffy did what she had to do to take care of your teenage daughter. She put her life on hold to raise your child while you were off doing god knows what. You can't blame her when it was you who failed both your children."

"I told you not to speak to me, old man," said Hank, giving Giles a hard shove.

Giles smiled cruelly. "I really should thank you for the excuse," he said, and with no further preamble, punched Hank Summers with enough force to send the man sprawling to the floor.

"Giles!" Buffy shrieked in disbelief. He gave her a hapless shrug and a half smile. Hank was on his feet half a second later. He barreled into Giles full force, knocking the wind out of him as he hit the wall. His subsequent right hook sent Giles' glasses skidding across the floor. The next caught Giles squarely in the mouth.

Giles took another swing and sent Hank sprawling again. Buffy's father used the wall to steady himself as he gained his footing once again.

"Stop this nonsense right now!" shouted Buffy. Hank tried to gut-check Giles, who deftly dodged. A well aimed foot and Hank tripped, hitting the floor once more.

"Who's the old man, now?" asked Giles, grinning despite a busted lip.

"I said stop it!" Buffy shouted, stepping in between them. "Both of you." She was ignored as the combatants circled around her to come at each other once again.

Hank tried to tackle the Watcher. Satsu, who'd just been coming in to retrieve Buffy, had to dodge out of the way as the two men tumbled past her and into a struggling heap. Taking in her friend's flustered expression and the two grown men acting like children, she decided perhaps she should fetch Xander instead.

xxx

"Let me get this straight," said Xander, following Satsu back to the castle. "You couldn't lure Buffy to her surprise party because Giles is there… and he's fighting?"

'That's right, sir," said Satsu.

"Another Buffy birthday bash," Xander muttered.

"What's going on?" asked Dawn, leaning down to her normal sized friends.

"That's what I'm going to find out, Dawnie," said Xander, shoving open the front door. "Wait here."

"Like I have a choice," she called after him.

"Oh, hell," he said, as Giles sent Hank crashing in his direction. Hank charged back toward Giles.

Buffy, her face red with frustration, grabbed both men by the collars of their shirts, an awkward feat for someone of her stature, and yanked them bodily apart. "Enough all ready!" she shouted.

Giles wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood tall, if bruised. Hank was using the wall for support.

"What the hell was that?" shouted Buffy. "You two should be ashamed of yourselves." Giles' swollen mouth cracked into a grin and he shrugged.

Hank panted. "I'll be on my way," he said, and hobbled out the door.

xxx

"Is Buffy all right?" Dawn called when she saw the door begin to open.

Her father limped out.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

Hank Summers looked up at his giantess of a daughter, his neck craning until he almost toppled over. "D…Dawn?" His eyes rolled back into his head.

Xander caught him before he could faint dead away. "Easy there, big guy," he said. "Come with me. We need to talk."

xxx

Buffy set Giles' glasses down on the table. "You're very lucky they're not broken," she said. She stepped between Giles' knees and pressed an icepack gently to the growing bruise blossoming from beneath his left eye. She used the damp cloth in her other hand to dab the blood from his face. He watched her mildly, his expression utterly placid as she went about her ministrations.

"Stupid idiot," she muttered.

"Me or your father?" he asked, reaching up to hold the icepack and freeing up her right hand.

"You," she said. "I expect stupidity from him. His behavior wasn't remarkable, hence the lack of remark."

"Ah."

"You were having fun back there."

"I was defending you," he said, his eyes feigning disbelief at her accusation.

"My ass. Like I need defending."

His mouth slid into an easy grin. "Not usually."

"Admit it," she said, slapping his arm lightly. "You enjoyed that way too much."

"I'll admit I found a certain catharsis in it," he said. "But he had it coming."

"Do me a favor," she said, dabbing his lip. "Don't say that in front of my impressionable young Slayers. Your fight is probably all ready the talk of the castle."

"Sorry to be a bad influence," he said. He scrunched up his face as she prodded a particularly painful spot.

"Hold still," she commanded. "I'm almost done."

"What's the prognosis, doctor?" asked Xander, coming in.

Buffy put a few extra inches between herself and her Watcher. "He'll live," she said. "Provided I don't kill him for that little macho display."

Xander grinned at Giles from an angle where Buffy couldn't see him and mimed a one-two punch. He gave the older man a thumbs-up, causing Giles to smile involuntarily.

"When you're done patching up the Watcher-man, you two should come out and watch some of the practice drills," said Xander. "I've been seeing some pretty impressive stuff, lately."

"We'll be down in a few minutes," said Buffy, applying a tiny butterfly-closure to the split in Giles' lip. With a parting wave, Xander headed back outside. "All done," she said, giving her Watcher a pat on the shoulder. She stepped away from him and began cleaning up the first-aid kit. "You want some Advil?"

He stood, rolling his shoulders and turning his neck experimentally. He winced as his joints creaked. "Yes, please. It would seem that despite my fun, I am getting too old for schoolyard brawls."

Buffy chuckled lightly as she rooted through the kit for the painkiller. She passed it to him, along with a bottle of water. "Consider this payback for all those times you've patched me up," she said as he took the medicine. "And Giles…"

"Hmm?" He raised his eyebrows from behind the water bottle.

Tenderly she wrapped her arms around his chest. "Thank you," she whispered, laying her head over his heart. "For what you said." He abandoned the water bottle to the table behind him and put his arms around his Slayer.

xxx

"So Buffy is some kind of super hero?" Hank rubbed his head vigorously. "Has she always been?"

"Since she was fifteen," Dawn said patiently.

He pondered that for a moment. "So burning down the gym in LA?

"Vampires attacked the dance," said Dawn.

"And living in Scotland? All these girls?"

"Into every generation a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world… at least, that's how it used to be," said Dawn. "We were fighting something really bad back in Sunnydale. Buffy found a weapon forged for the Slayer. And Willow did a powerful spell, activating every girl in the world who had the potential to be a Slayer."

"Willow? That mousy little friend of Buffy's from high school?" Hank looked incredulous.

"She's one major league Wicca now, Dad," said Dawn. "Anyway, once Sunnydale sunk, we knew we had to find the Slayers. There are several squads around the world. About five hundred Slayers on the payroll. There's more out there. We always seem to be finding new ones. Buffy runs most of the operation from here."

Hank let out a slow breath. He was still processing all of this new information. "And this Mr. Giles?"

Dawn sighed. They'd been over this part a couple of times now. "Giles is Buffy's Watcher. His duty has always been to train and council the Slayer. Of course, there are more Slayers than Watchers at the moment."

"And you're big because of a spell?"

"Either that, or the vegetables in the dinning hall at Berkley were mighty good," said Dawn.

Hank looked as though he were considering that possibility. "That was a joke, Dad," she said. "It was a spell."

"I'm having trouble telling," he said. "Magic is real. One of my daughters is head of a multinational organization, aside from being a super hero. And my other daughter is…"

"Super-sized?" she supplied helpfully. "Don't worry. Willow and the others are working on a counter spell."

"It's a lot to take in," he said. "Did your mother know?"

"Not at first," said Dawn. "She had trouble coping when she found out. It's part of why Buffy ran away."

"She's coming," called Satsu, jogging down the hill that separated the gathered Slayers from their leader's view.

"Ooh," said Dawn, clasping her hands together eagerly. "Party time. I'm glad you're here, Dad."

"Me, too," said Hank.

Andrew and Renée each took one end of a banner, unfurling it. 'Happy Birthday, Buffy' had been artfully scrawled across it, along with dozens of hand written notes and little drawings from the gathered Slayers. A few girls were filling bowls with chips and snacks on tables they'd set up for the occasion.

"Am I late?" asked Willow, appearing out of nowhere.

"She's coming now," said Xander, giving his friend a hug.

They all watched and waited for Buffy to reach the top of the hill. When she did, she wasn't facing them. She was walking backwards to better taunt her Watcher. "Slowpoke," she called down to him, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Hurry up, Giles. They'll be finished before we get there."

He reached her a moment later and smiled at what he saw. He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face the crowd. "Surprise," roared the assembled Slayers and their friends.

"Did you know about this?" Buffy asked Giles softly.

"No, I didn't," he said. "It looks as though most everyone is here."

"And it looks as though they put every candle in Scotland on my cake, the little pyros," said Buffy. Indeed, there appeared to be well more than twenty-four and of varying sizes and colors. "We better get down there before they set the moors ablaze." They hurried down to join their friends.

xxx

During the party, Buffy's father saw her sitting by herself, watching the festivities. "Are you having a good time?" he asked.

"I am," she said. "But I wish they wouldn't go to all the trouble."

"They love you, Buffy," he said. He put his hands in his pockets self-consciously. "And so do I, sweetheart."

"I know, Dad," she said. "I get why you were so freaked out. And I love you, too."

"On a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you?" he asked.

"Today? Not much," she said. "At any given moment… maybe a four. Used to be higher, but there wasn't any point in that."

He nodded, seeming to accept that. "I'm sorry about earlier," he said. "I didn't come here to fight. With you or your friends."

"Apology accepted," she said, giving her father a hug.

xxx

It was early evening and the party was wrapping up. Most of the Slayers had left to train or go on about their business. Willow had said her goodbyes before teleporting back to her current mission in Barcelos, Brazil. Renée, Dawn, and Andrew were having a rollicking conversation involving the latest in a comic book series.

Giles found Buffy alone, sitting under a fir tree. "Have you seen Xander?" he asked, settling himself on the brown winter grass beside her.

"I think he went up to the ops center to check on things," she said. "Are you making the goodbye rounds?"

"I was actually going to see if he could set me up with a bed for the night," said Giles. "I don't really fancy driving all the way back to Bath in the dark."

"So you aren't leaving, then?" She wasn't looking at him and he found her expression inscrutable.

"Not tonight," he said. "That is… if I'm not a bother."

She didn't respond. The far away look in her eyes concerned him. He'd been watching her all afternoon. Despite the party in her honor, she seemed to be on the outside looking in at the fun going on around her. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

She seemed startled by the question. She looked over at him awkwardly. "Nothing," she said. "Best Buffy Birthday ever. My dad showed and you don't seem to have any signs of becoming a demon. Everything's swell."

He frowned. "Then why do you look so sad?"

She raised her eyebrows and smiled broadly in what she knew wasn't a convincing manner. "Me? Sad? I'm as happy as a clam." She quirked her mouth to the side. "You know, I never got that expression. Are clams happy? I'm as happy as…" She paused, trying to think of something unequivocally happy. "As… a really happy clam," she finished lamely. She hauled herself to her feet.

Giles didn't look convinced. He stood as well, studying her thoughtfully. He reached out to touch her face. She stepped back in a not unobvious dodge. "Don't," she said softly.

He looked hurt. "Don't what?"

"Don't press the issue, Giles," she said. "You're stubborn. You'll keep at it until I tell you what a mess I am inside. But you'll still be gone in the morning." She turned to walk away but he caught her arm.

"Buffy, please. Tell me what is going on," he pleaded.

She sighed, resigned. "I can't feel the connection," she murmured. "I unleashed the power of the Slayer so no girl would ever have to fight alone again, but I feel more alone than ever."

"You're not alone, Buffy," he said.

"Everyone leaves," she said sadly. "One by one, I drive them away. Friends, family, it doesn't matter. They all figure it out eventually. There's something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you," he said vehemently.

"Around me, then," she snapped. "Semantics, Giles. They still leave. You did."

That stung like a blow. "Buffy, you didn't drive me away," he said, stunned.

She laughed bitterly. "That's not what you said when you left," she said.

"I said I was holding you back," he said. "I was, Buffy. You wouldn't stand on your own two feet with me there."

"I rest my case," she said.

He sighed exasperatedly. "That wasn't the only reason I left," he said. "It was about me, not you. I am sorry I hurt you, but I had to go."

"What were they?"

"What were what?"

"Don't play coy," she growled. "These mysterious other reasons why you left. What were they?"

His expression grew closed. "It's personal, Buffy," he said.

"Now that's a cop out answer if I ever heard one," she said. She turned to go, jerking her arm from his grip. "I knew better than to get into this conversation in the first place."

Behind her anger she looked so lost, so quietly miserable. He frowned and swallowed convulsively, trying to mentally talk himself out of what he had just resolved to do.

"Do you really want to know why I left?" he asked; his voice flat with forced calm. His heart was beating a staccato against his sternum. He could feel the blood pumping hard in his veins.

She turned back, eyeing him warily. "I'm listening."

"If you want to know, then come here," he said. She stomped impatiently back to him, stopping with about three feet between them. She put her hands on her hips and waited.

He stepped toward her, closing the distance. He caressed her face gently, looking directly into her eyes.

What she saw reflected in his surprised her beyond belief. She let out a little gasp as he leaned closer. She knew what he was going to do before he did it. Giles moved with deliberate slowness, giving her every opportunity to put a stop to it. She was, perhaps, too surprised to move.

His lips touched hers, softly at first, then more insistently. He never took his eyes from hers, his gaze so intense that it frightened her. He stepped back, watching, waiting for her reaction.

She stood motionless. All at once she covered her mouth with her hand and turned away. Whatever miniscule hopes he'd invested in his little stunt crashed and burned.

"Buffy…"

She took off at a dead run for the castle.

xxx

It was a half-hour or more before Giles had worked up the nerve to approach her again. Now he stood outside of her chamber door, his hand poised to knock, but he couldn't make himself do it. What could he possibly say that wouldn't make things worse? He couldn't take it back. There was no way to make this right.

"I know you're out there," she called through the door. "Your shoes squeaked."

He sighed, letting his hand drop to his side. "Buffy, I…"

"You should probably go," she said, her voice flat. "Get as far away from me as you can."

He rested his head against the door in sorrow. "I came to say goodbye," he said.

She was silent for a long time. He thought he heard her stifle a sob.

"Buffy?"

"Goodbye, Giles," she said, so softly he almost didn't hear her.

"Buffy, are you crying?" He could feel his heart breaking.

"No," she lied. The tears were evident in her voice.

"May I come in?" he asked. She didn't answer. After a moment he tried the handle. "Buffy, I'm coming in," he said, finding it unlocked. He hesitated, waiting for her to deny him access. Her silence was broken by muffled sobs. He gave up all pretenses and pushed open the door.

He found his beloved Slayer sitting on the floor by the door. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, her head buried in her crossed arms. "Buffy…"

She lifted her head to look at him. "How could you?" she asked, something akin to anger flashing in her eyes.

He almost wished to be a vampire at that moment. Surely a wooden stake would be less painful. "I am so sorry," he said, his voice barely audible.

"You love me?" she asked. It was less a question than an accusation.

"Of course I love you, Buffy," he said softly. "I always thought you knew that."

"But it's different now," she said. "It's been different since… since… how long? How long has it been different?"

"I can't say exactly," he said honestly. "Sometime after we did that joining spell."

"So now you're… you're what? Are you in love with me, Giles?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Maybe?" She looked incredulous. "You idiot," she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "That's like karmic suicide! You of all people should know better."

Giles blinked, more confused than he could ever remember being. "I'm sorry… what?"

"I've just been through this with Satsu," she said. "Loving me is dangerous. It's like injecting yourself with Ebola… or, you know, walking into a vamp nest unarmed… or bungee jumping without the rope…or… or…or…"

He lowered himself to the floor in front of her, wondering desperately how to respond and if his Slayer had gone completely daft.

"You've seen what happens to people who love me, Giles," she said. "They die, or worse. How could you be so stupid?"

The chuckle that erupted from him surprised them both. She looked hurt and he clamped a hand over his traitorous mouth. To little effect. He began to shake with silent hilarity which quickly evolved into gales of unstoppable laughter.

"Thanks a lot," she muttered, grumpily drying her eyes. "Here I am trying to save you from unspeakable torment in a hell dimension, possibly one completely populated by shrimp, and you laugh at me."

"I…er…sorry," he coughed out, tears of mirth glistening on his cheeks. "But dear lord, Buffy, what has gotten into you?"

"Gee, I don't know," she said. "Watching my last lover go up in a pillar of flames. Or maybe, running my first love through with a sword and sending him to hell. And let's not forget the time my boyfriend started visiting the vampire equivalent of crack whores. My track record is way past abysmal and I don't want to see something like that happen to you."

"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" He was both bewildered and touched.

"Of course I am," she said. "No matter what you may think, I do care about what happens to you."

"I can assure you, Buffy," he said. "Nothing is going to happen to me."

"You don't know that," she said. "You can't promise something like that."

"No, I suppose not," he said. "We are in a dangerous line of work, after all. But it won't be your fault. Spike and Riley weren't your fault, either. And as for Angel, you did what you had to. You saved the world. And as far as I am concerned, you have my permission and my blessing to do it, if the situation ever arises where you need to kill me to save this wretched world. And I have the utmost confidence that you would do that for me."

"Yay, me," she pouted.

"Besides, you silly girl," he said, catching her eyes. "I've loved you for more than three years and I'm not dead yet. And it's not as if you are the only one with an abysmal track record." He scratched the mark of Eygon through his shirt absently.

She was no longer crying, which he considered to be progress. She looked at him thoughtfully. "So, you love me," she said. It wasn't a question, but she still sounded mystified.

"More than you know," he said, his voice low.

"I have no idea what to do with that," she said.

"You don't have to do anything," he said. "I was simply illustrating a point earlier. You didn't know that it was one reason I left. Now you do. No more, no less. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't offend me," she said. "Confused? Great mother goddess yes. But they're miles apart." She chewed her lip. "God, Giles, what could you possibly see in me? I'm a total basket case."

He looked down to hide a bemused smile. "You wouldn't be nearly as interesting if you weren't," he said.

"And I don't get why you left, if you loved me," she said. There was no accusation in the statement, just curiosity.

"I wanted something that you couldn't give," he said, looking at the far wall. "I couldn't make myself not want it, so I left. It felt inappropriate, somehow, to be around you. To be another one of the people demanding something from you. You had problems enough without me."

"I missed you, you know," she said.

"I know," he said. "I missed you, too."

"If you could have a relationship with me, how do you see it going?" she asked abruptly.

"What?"

"It's not a hard question, really," she said. "What would you want out of a relationship with me?"

He coughed. "I very well know I haven't a shot," he said after a moment. "I never gave much thought to the specifics."

"Sure you didn't," she said sarcastically.

"Buffy, what is the point of this line of questioning?" he asked.

"No point," she said. "Just curiosity. Indulge me."

He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, his cheeks growing warm.

"C'mon, Giles," she prodded. "Would we date? Would we get all dressed up and go places together? You'd compliment my stylish yet affordable shoes. I'd straighten your designer tweed tie. We'd make boring small talk. I'd tell you what I slew; you'd tell me what you read. Then we'd go home and have very boring sex because neither of us would want to weird the other out."

He blushed crimson. "You're having fun at my expense," he said.

"I don't mean to," she said, grinning just a little. "But to be fair, you did bring it up, kissing me and all. If you hadn't, I certainly wouldn't be giving any thought to the kind of sex we'd have."

He coughed violently.

"And, sidebar," she said, smiling wickedly. "What is a stevedore? I always meant to look it up."

"Buffy, please!" he snapped hoarsely. "Consider me punished enough." He got to his feet and stalked over to her couch. He sat down roughly and watched her.

She moved to sit beside him. "Sorry, Giles," she said. "I couldn't resist."

"Glad to know that my sex life amuses you so," he said grouchily.

"Don't be mad," she said, leaning over to look him in the eye.

He sighed. "You really are the most irksome girl I have ever met," he said.

"Some things never change," she said. She raised one eyebrow. "Would I call you Rupert?"

"Buffy, it's my given name. You can call me that now if you wish," he said. Her other eyebrow followed the first and he laughed. A sudden thought struck him. "What would you want out of a relationship with me?" he asked. "Supposing you could have one."

It was her turn to blush. "I never said I wanted one," she said.

"Neither did I."

They stared at each other for a long moment. She sat back against the sofa, leaning her head against his shoulder and ignoring the fact that she felt him flinch.

"I suppose," she said quietly. "That I'd want my friend back. You know the guy. The one who'd always tell me when I was being an idiot, even when I was too dumb to listen. The one who offered to buy me ice cream when I was having a bad day. The one I wish I had told how much his friendship meant to me, but again… too dumb."

"I…" he paused, slightly overcome. "I think I would like that as well."

"You know," he said after a while. "I didn't think you'd ever speak to me again after what I did."

"What? Kiss me?" She chuckled. "Stranger things have happened."

"Perhaps."

"I mean, it's still weird," she said. "It would be weird if you were my age. We've known each other a long time, Giles."

"Eight years on a week from Tuesday," he said.

"And speaking of the age difference," she said and he groaned. "Don't pout. I'm better at it. Now, about the age difference. I thought you were over the midlife crisis. You did the whole car as a phallic symbol phase."

"What makes you think this is a midlife crisis?" he asked.

"I'm half your age," she said. "Isn't that a classic symptom?"

"My feelings for you have nothing whatsoever to do with your age," he said. "Or mine. Our lives are so far outside the norm, the usual parameters of age hardly apply."

"I guess you have a point there," she said. "Especially since you'd be my second youngest boyfriend."

He crowed with laughter. They leaned against each other and lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"This is nice," she said, after a time. "It feels like old times."

"It does, doesn't it," he said. He sighed and his expression grew grim. "It's almost enough to make me forget that we aren't this close anymore."

She sighed, too. "I know."

She grabbed his hand suddenly. "We could be," she said, looking desperately into his eyes. "I want to be friends again, Giles. You want that, too, don't you?"

"Yes, I want that, too," he said mournfully.

"Then why can't we?"

"I don't think it's necessarily that simple," he said.

"Why not?" He could see the hope in her eyes. "Maybe it's just that simple. Maybe all we have to do is try."

"And maybe," he said a touch bitterly. "We'll just forget all of the hurtful things we've said and done to each other over the last few years."

"I'm not asking you to forget," she said. "But is forgiving really out of the question? We used to be so close. You were my Watcher. You're still my Watcher, aren't you?" She wiped at her eyes. "God, how did we screw this up so bad? I love you, Giles. Can't we be friends again?"

She realized with some horror that he was crying. "Giles, I'm sorry," she said, immediately flustered. "What did I say?" She pulled herself onto her knees on the couch and took his weathered face in her hands, fingers brushing away the quiet tears he was unashamedly weeping. Her efforts did little to staunch their flow.

"Giles, what is it?" she asked. Her worry over his current state had her own tears on the verge of overflowing again. He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Wonderful," he whispered. "Wonderful, clever girl. Maybe it is that simple."

They cried together, clinging to one another, for almost an hour.

"We should probably find Xander and see about that room," said Giles, once they had composed themselves.

"I want you to stay here tonight," she said.

His eyes grew wide and he looked like he might protest. She burst out laughing. "Oh my god, you should see the look on your face!" She patted his cheek affectionately. "Not for sex, doofus. Mind out of the gutter, please."

He looked thoroughly confused.

"Like a sleepover," she said. "It's been so long since we've really talked. We can stay up late… and then, when we do fall asleep, neither one of us will have to wake up alone. Which is, let's face it, of the good."

"You must be having a slow year," he said dryly. She blew him a raspberry and he chuckled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "If you truly want me to stay, then how can I refuse?"

xxx

Giles awoke in a strange bed, a distinctly feminine form pressed against his side. The firm weight of a blonde head rested on his chest. He felt for the night stand and retrieved his glasses, the memories of the previous night coming back to him. Looking down at his slumbering Slayer, he could not stop the smile that lit his face. She looked extremely content, her hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt, her face completely relaxed in sleep. He stroked her hair and she snuggled more firmly against him.

He took the ends of a few golden locks and tickled her nose with them. She released his shirt to rub her nose, but did not wake. "Buffy," he called softly.

She smiled sleepily up at him, her eyes barely slits. "G'morning," she mumbled, stretching and planting a kiss on the end of his nose.

Giles blushed. "Buffy," he said, a little louder when her hands began to roam.

She blinked and opened her eyes fully. She took in his blush and her hand tucked way too intimately between the buttons of his shirt. "Oh," she squeaked. She turned positively purple with embarrassment when she realized her fingers were absently toying with his chest hair. She pulled her hand away and sat up. "Giles, I'm sorry. I… I…"

He made sure he had ample blanket covering his own morning excitement and sat up. He smiled at her. "No harm done," he said. And then, unable to resist, he asked, "Slow year?"

Her blush that had started to recede hit her hairline. He laughed and she swatted his arm playfully. "I'd like to see how you deal with living in the world's most violent and hormonal convent," she said. "And if you must know, slow year doesn't begin to cover it."

He yawned. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," she said. "If I had known stalwart Watchers were so good at chasing away nightmares, I'd have slept with you sooner."

He coughed to cover a chuckle and she swatted his arm again. "Jees, Giles. Slow year?"

"Something like that," he said. "Have you been having nightmares often?"

Her expression grew dour. "Almost every night," she admitted. "Not the prophetic kind, either. Just the 'I've seen way too much bad shit' kind."

"Well, I'm glad I could chase them away, if only for the night," he said.

"Me too."

"Now, if you would be so kind… the loo?"

She pointed to a door on the far wall and he hauled himself to his feet. He tripped over his satchel in his haste and spilled its contents all over the floor.

When he came out of the restroom he found Buffy sitting on the edge of her bed. She was toying with a small blue-wrapped package. He noticed with affection that she'd cleaned up the rest of his clumsy mess.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "I noticed it had my name on it."

"I completely forgot," he said. "Happy birthday, Buffy. Feel free to open it."

She grinned and held the box up to her ear, giving it a little shake. Unable to deny her curiosity any longer, she tore off the paper and opened the box. Inside was a gossamer thin necklace with a silver ice skate charm and two tickets to an ice show in London where Dorothy Hamill was to be the guest of honor. She squealed and launched herself into his arms.

"You're the best, Giles," she said. "You're amazing. You rock. Have I told you, you're the best?"

He smiled indulgently. "I'm glad you like it, Buffy."

"I love it," she said. She disentangled herself from her Watcher and went to go try the necklace on. He moved to help her with the clasp, sweeping her hair from her neck. She blinked at the image of the two of them in her bedroom mirror. She turned to study his face. "It's…" She bit her lip. "It's kind of a date… isn't it?"

He stepped back. "I… no, er, not as such," he stammered. "Just two friends going to see an ice show since we didn't six years ago. You don't even have to take me as your companion if there's someone you prefer. Satsu or Xander or…" He tugged on his collar, his airway suddenly tight at the worried look she was giving him.

She sat down hard on the end of her bed, lost in thought.

"Buffy, truly, my intention was not to make you uncomfortable," he said. "I saw on the telly that Dorothy Hamill was going to be the matron of ceremonies and I thought you'd like to go."

She didn't respond. She seemed to be puzzling something out in her head.

"It's not a date," he said. "Honestly, it hadn't occurred to me that it might seem that way."

She looked up at him shyly, still having an internal argument. "And if I wanted it to be a date?" she asked finally.

Giles staggered and sat down in a convenient chair.

"I'm not saying I want it to be a date," she added hastily.

Giles ran his hands over his face. "What are you saying?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted sheepishly. "Part of me is a little… intrigued… at the thought of it as… as a date."

He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, this is bloody awkward," he exclaimed when the silence had stretched too long.

"I want to go," she said. "To the ice show. With you. I don't know what it means or if I want it to mean anything or if I'm possibly going completely insane or what I'm looking for or what you're looking for or… stop me any time…"

He smiled a little and shook his head. "You really are something," he said gently.

"Thanks," she said. "So are you." She sighed. "I don't know if I want it to be a date or not. But I… I'd like to think about it, okay?" She looked up at him, her big grey eyes pleading.

He smiled and reached out to touch her face. "Take all the time you need."

xxx

Hank Summers paused and ducked back around the bend in the hallway when he saw his daughter's door open. He was surprised at how little it fazed him to see the librarian exiting her room. Giles headed off in the opposite direction and Hank waited a moment more before knocking on Buffy's door. She opened it.

"Dad?" She looked surprised to see him.

"May I come in?" he asked. "I'd like to talk to you."

"Okay," she said, the word almost coming out as a question. She stepped aside to let him in.

"I'm sorry," he said, perching on the edge of her couch. "I wasn't there when your mom died. I was off finding myself. I should have been there to take care of you and Dawn."

Buffy blinked, surprised to hear him say it. "Yes," she said. "You should have been there."

"And I wish you'd told me about this whole Slayer thing," he said.

"You wouldn't have believed me," she said mildly.

"No, probably not," he said. "It's sobering to find out that the whole time I thought you were being irresponsible, you were actually saving the world."

"That comes with the gig," she said.

"Can you ever forgive me, Buffy?" he asked. "I got so many things wrong in this life. I'd like to get to know the only things I did right. You and Dawn are my world. I know you live a very different life now than you did at fourteen. But if you'll let me, I'd like to be a part of it again."

He looked nervously at his daughter. "Oh, and your secret is safe with me," he added as an afterthought. "Dawn and your friend, Xander, were very clear on the importance of that."

Buffy hugged her father tightly, giving him just the slightest taste of Slayer strength. "I forgive you, Daddy."

"Thank you," he said, kissing her forehead. They sat down on the couch, Buffy leaning casually against her father. "About this Mr. Giles," he said, forcing his voice to remain neutral.

"Nothing has ever happened between me and Giles," she said patiently. "Something might, eventually. And if you make me choose, know I will pick him over you."

He looked stung. "I deserve that," he said. "I won't make you choose. But if he does you wrong…"

"You'll go all Dad on his ass," she said.

"No one messes with my daughter," he said. She smiled and he smiled back.

"You know," he said abruptly. "You don't have to live here. You could come home and go back to school. You've saved the world enough all ready. There's lots of Slayers, now. You could have a normal life."

She gave him an indulgent smile. "You know I can't do that," she said.

"I didn't figure you would," he said. "But always remember that you can if you want to."

"Thanks, Dad."

xxx

"He's going to spend his vacation here in Scotland," Buffy said, walking across the moor with her Watcher. "Make up for lost time with me and Dawnie. He said he wants to get to know the women we've become. And he's all proud, like a sport's dad. 'My daughter is the best Slayer' and all that."

Giles smiled at her. "That's wonderful, Buffy."

"And the way I see it," she said. "If I can work things out with my dear old dead beat dad, then you and I are golden. No more worries in the forgiving and moving forward department."

He chuckled. "Sounds reasonable."

"It was a strange birthday," she said thoughtfully. "But it's definitely the best one I can remember."

As they walked, she got a far away look on her face.

"Kiss me again," she said suddenly, pulling them to a halt and turning to face him.

"W…What?" he stammered, instinctively reaching for his glasses and a handkerchief to clean them.

"You heard me," she said. She stepped squarely in front of him.

He put his glasses on and watched her warily. "What are you playing at, Buffy?"

She didn't say anything, but simply looked up at him expectantly. He studied her expression as he tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket. Gingerly he took a step toward her, reaching out to brush a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear.

Buffy felt her pulse quicken in anticipation. He laid his big warm hand gently against her cheek, his thumb slowly stroking beneath her eye. He tilted her head back as he bowed his reverently. Her eyes slid closed.

He didn't kiss her right away and she had the distinct impression he was savoring the moment. The first touch of his lips to hers was so soft and warm she thought she would melt. He adjusted his position, pressing his lips more firmly to hers. Buffy suddenly understood all the clichés about fireworks and lightning.

He didn't deepen the kiss, just massaged her lips with his own. It was slow and gentle, but deliberate. She became so lost in the sensation that she felt robbed when he took his mouth away.

She opened her eyes, blinking blearily at him. He was watching her with a curious expression. "Why do I feel like that was some kind of test?" he asked softly.

She reached up to caress his cheek. When she could speak, she said, "Not for you. A test for me."

He looked confused.

"When you kissed me before I was too surprised to process anything but that you had kissed me. I couldn't grasp how I felt about it," she said.

"And now?" He looked rather nervous.

"Now… I think I'd like the ice show to be a date if that's all right with you," she said.

The grin on his face started slow. As it spread it took years off and brightened every corner of his face. "I shall have to remember to compliment your shoes."

THE END


End file.
